The Outcast Clan
by T.j.98
Summary: Before being accepted into his clan, all young Navi must pass a rite of passage. And if the young navi can't, he or she is banished and shunned by their, race, their family, and even by Eywa. The same fate will befall all their descendants. Is it any wonder which side the outcasts chose to fight for when the humans came?
1. Chapter 1:The outcast

I am sitting with my back against a cold and lifeless boulder, keeping watch at the mouth of the rocky cavern. The woodsprites that occasionally float by bring me anger, they taunt me that I do not belong and remind me of my mortality. I place my four fingered hand on my stomach to make it temporarily forget its hunger.

My once bright blue has become pale as cave water from living away from the open sky, it is not adorned with tribal paint but is criss crossed with jagged scars and dotted with old arrow wounds from several close encounters with members of my race who live in clans. The only clothes I wear are what rags I could find. My eyes have long since lost their golden gleam and turned a murky brown. My queue has not glowed or even been felt for years, and is now a dead tangle. My teeth are nit nearly as sharp as they should be, but what else can be expected from a scavenger diet. Malnutrition has kept he a head shorter than the average Navi has after living as many years as I have.

I am an outcast, one of the despised and hunted, enemy of all the clans, one who has failed his rite of passage and forced to leave his clan forever. Because I could not tame a banshee, the Omaticaya clan, my parents, everyone I knew told me to leave and never return. Many tried to kill me, believing I was a disgrace who did not deserve to live. I have had to run and hide, to scavenge and steal; what ever it took to survive. I did it, and until recently I had to do it alone. Even Eywa has renounced me, severing my connection with the rest of the world. For almost my whole adult life, I have had to be completely alone.

A small child, one who looks very much like me but with few scare, crawled next to me and wrapped hugged my right arm. I smiled, and gently tousled what little hair he had with my left hand.

"I thought you were going to sleep?"

"I was, but I got scared and wanted to be near you."

I did not tell my son that he had nothing to be scared of; I promised I would not lie to him. I simply held him close until he stopped shaking. After a while, he starts to sleep. He sleeps so peacefully that by watching him I can, if only for a brief moment, forget the immense danger we or in or the gruesome fate that will befall us should we be found by either Navi or beast. Some on known sound rumbles in the distance, what it is I do not know and my curiosity is not strong enough to compel me to find out. I reach for the flint knife I carved from rock, holding any weapon at all makes me feel less powerless.

Despite being unarmed, I have been able to make good use of my cunning and navi warrior arrogance. However, there have been too many close calls for me to take any chances. Because I could not pass the rite of passage, because I do not belong, I am an enemy of all my race. Because my son was born of two outcasts, and because neither me nor my sons mother were physically able to undergo tsaheylu before conceiving him, he too will be hated by all. To keep him safe, I would do anything.

Soon the skys great light will fall beneath the horizon and those who hunt us will sleep and my son and I can go about finding food. Everything will still be trying to end our lives, but the darkness should provide the needed cover to keep my son safe from harm. He is the only reason I keep myself alive.


	2. Chapter 2:Hunting

I sneak along the jungle, holding my sons hand to be sure he is close by. In my other hand I hold the crude dagger I chipped from the cave rock, not a real weapon as much as it is a cutlery.

The risk of taking my son with me is outweighed by the greater risk of him being found alone. We are careful not to draw attention, as even the slightest sound can mean death. Though my heart beats tremendously, I know that I must take the risk; we can not go much longer without food. I can hear the turbulence just a quarter of a mile ahead. I give my son whispered instructions similar to the ones I always tell him in situations like these.

"Tanhí, stay back for now. I promise I will tell you when it is safe."

He simply nods, and and hides behind a fallen log. I go forward at a painfully slow way, my heart beating so rapidly I fear if can be heard. Once I am as close as I can get without being seen, I wait crouched. I only turn my head to look before mr at the fighting or back towards my son for a few seconds at a time. The few glimpses I get of the fighting, and the conversation of talkative hunters, give me an idea of what is going on.

Three or so hunters are currently hunting a yerik, shooting arrows at it while it flails around in its own confusion and agony. The three hunters, two male and one female, are adorned in hunter paint specific to their clan. After a few minutes, the yerik collapsed on the ground and gasped for air. The hunters chattered while they closed in for the kill.

"See? I told you its a big one."

The lead hunters younger brother indeed saw how big it was. "How are you always able to find the best ones?"

The female hunter asked, "Are you talking about me?"

The younger male hunter replied jokingly. "No, but would have thought you pissed off Eywa is she pared you with someone half as ugly as my brother."

The older male hunter also jokingly rebutted, "At least I can hunt."

"I can practice and become a good hunter, you'll still be ugly."

They playfully bantered while killing, cleaning, and stripping a good amount of the meat off the yerik. What the older male hunter said next gave me hope.

"That's enough, we'll save the rest for Eywa."

The term 'save it for Eywa' means to leave a portion of the meat from a hunt behind to feed the creatures. I do not think Eywa needs it.

As I heard their voices grow dim, I could conclude they were leaving. Once they were gone, I gained the courage to slowly lift my head above the shrubs. What I saw was proof that this trip was worth it.

Lying on the forest floor, covered in its own blood, was the butchered remains or an adult yerik. Resisting the urge to run towards it, I slowly and with caution walked up to it. This will have enough food to last me and Tanhí at least a week. I am not too far away for him to see me, so I gesture with my hand for him to sneak over here.

Like a shadow, he is next to me. As I cut the meat away he eats some of the chunks I set aside for him. Most eat as much as they can after being close to the brink of death by starvation, others eat slowly to make the moment last as long as possible. Tanhí and I are in the second category, as we savor each morsel of food and somehow manage to gouge ourselves to fullness in less than half an hour. We gather up as much as possible, and carry it back to the cavern. We will have to leave the cavern tomorrow, but first we will need time to rest.

When he sleeps, Tanhí reminds me so much of his mother; I miss her even to this day. I still remember when I first met her, I remember that moment that passed years age as though it happened less than a minute in the past. Her eyes, also brown like dead leaves, were the most beautiful sight to grace my vision. We spent several years working together, trying to survive a world that was actively trying to kill us. We quickly came to love each one another, regardless of an inability to undergo tsaheylu. I wish she were still here.

Now I rest, falling into a half sleep in which my eyes are not closed and my senses still on alert. I have not had a full sleep since childhood, and I do not think I would know how to if I ever got the chance. While I listen, I can only hear the breath of myself and my son; two travelers with countless enemies.


	3. Chapter 3:A close encounter

We head out the very moment it is night again, we have stayed in this cavern too long already and do not want to risk detection. We make our way through the jungle, heading ever south. I have no idea what we will find in the southernmost part of the world, or even how much distance we covered so far; all I know is that staying in one place for too long is too risky. We must keep moving, it is our only hope.

As we climb through the floor of the jungle, neither of us make a single sound. I have long ago mastered silence, and so can breathe silently without trouble. Sometimes, no matter how silent or unnoticeable you make yourself, there is someone who will accidentally bump into you. This would not be such a problem if I was not an outcast, but if that was the case I would not need to remain hidden. But that is not the case; for I do need to remain hidden and I am hunted.

A hunter, probably returning from a successful trip, accidentally crossed my path. When he saw my brown eyes or my dead queue, his facial expression changed from a surprised look into a menacing one. If he had any arrows left with his bow, my son and I would be dead. As it was, he had only his staff and gripped it as one would a weapon.

"Forsaken ones!"

I learned long ago from experience that reasoning with him would be a useless and time consuming endeavor. I quickly pull out my knife, determined that when I meet my end it will be with a struggle and not with submission.

"Run! Now!"

I can hear my son run as far away from us as possible, and thankfully the hunter does not notice him. The hunter charges at me with his staff, and I am barely able to lunge out of the way.

He swings his staff at me again, and once again roll out of the way of his swing.

Before I can return to a standing position, he rams the butt of the staff into the ground where my shoulder used to be. I was barely able to escape that.

He then swings his staff to the side in an attempt to decapitate me. I am able to duck down and in the brief moment before he recoils his staff he is exposed; my chance has come.

Clutching my stone knife, I lunge at his torso and get him while he is not expecting it. We collapse into the ground behind him while I ram the knife through his chest.

Even after he stops moving, and his grip lets his staff fall from his hand, I continue to stab him again and again and again and again. I am covered in blood.

I make one last stab at his throat, between the jaw and neck; I can not take any more risks than I already am. I pull his woven bag off from around him without checking to see what is inside. I also take his staff, as well as piling the rest of my food into the bag.

Then I run, I run faster than seemingly possible. I do not want to take the risk of finding out whether or not I alerted anyone; I just want to find my son continue the journey. After a long time running in the general direction of my son, I find a small cluster of boulders. Overgrown and beneath the roots of a tree, they make a good hiding place for such short notice. I sit down next to it, and catch my breath.

I see two brown eyes peeking out if it, and hear a releasing voice.

"Father, can I come out?"

"No, but I might need to go in as well."

I do, and we wait. After some hours we can hear footsteps rush by as excited perusers, who more likely than not are hunting us, rush past our hiding place completely oblivious to our presence.

"I think they went this way."

"Eywa will honor us for ridding this world of those she has forsaken."

"I can feel their presence, they must not have went far."

The voices of the perusers gradually grow farther away until they are gone. All I can hear is my rapid breathing, and the rapid breathing of Tanhí. We wait in our hiding place until our lungs are calmed, and then we wait ten more minutes to be sure it is safe to come out.

"Come here Tanhí, it is safe to come out."

"You have blood on you."

"I'm not injured."

"You killed him."

"I had to."

"Because if you didn't he'd kill us?"

"Yes"

"I understand. Are we still the good guys?"

"Yes, we are still the good guys."

Once I have my bearings, we head back on a southern bound path. This time we took all precautions possible to avoid getting caught. We will need to find a hiding spot for when the sun comes up, and I hope we put enough distance between us and the enemy. The staff will make a good walking stick, and a better weapon then the knife did. I still did not check to see what was in the bag, but I am it is better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

I would be lying if I said that was the first navi life I ended, but I would also be lying if any of the did not attempt to kill me first or that it was not always in self defense. I will kill anyone who attempts to harm my son, my son is the only thing that matters to me.

* * *

**Authors Note: To clear up confusion, it is stated explicitly in the canon that only those who pass the rite of passage gain acceptance into the clan. Since my first three reviews have been so encouraging, I decided that I am going to see this story to the very end. There is no way I am leaving this unfinished, nor am I deleting it.**


	4. Chapter 4:River crossing

After a long time, the jungle gradually grows thinner. We finally reach a river shortly after entering the savannah. There is no way we will be able to cross the river without a good days sleep. We walk along the river until we find the hollow trunk of a long dead tree trunk.

The he trunk is covered in the inside and outside with a mossy growth. A small amount of water flows through the bottom of the trunk, but most of the ground inside the trunk is dry. It is going to be day soon, so I climb into the trunk and pull Tanhí in after me. The first thing I do is pull the meat out of the bag and give some to Tanní and eat some myself. Once we have had enough, I decide to look through the bag to find out what is inside. I look through the bag with the same silence I use for all my other actions.

Inside I find a nearly empty water gourd, which I fill to the brim with water from the trickle. I also find two spools of bowstring tied around some type of bone; I do not know what I can use it for but I dare not abandon it for fear I might need it later on.

I also find a small ikran doll, small enough to fit in my hand. For a moment I feel the slightest twinge of remorse over the fact that the man I killed might have had a child under his care. I shake off my guilt with the memory of how he tried to kill me and the rage that filled his eyes when he saw my deformities; I did not choose to kill another person, he did.

I carefully wash my body in the trickle, one limb at a time. Once all the blood and dirt is off of me, I gesture Tanhí to do the same. Once he is also cleaned off, I watch the entrance while he plays with the doll. The sun moves across the horizon.

* * *

Eventually, it is night again; that means we can cross the river. I slither like a worm out of the log, then I reach in and pull my son out after me. We wipe the dirt from our loincloths, and prepare to cross the river. I place Tanhí on my shoulders, and have him hold the bag of supplies. I then prepare to cross the rushing and deep river.

The water is like ikran teeth in that it daggers my legs to numbness. As I wade across, it comes up to my knees, then my waist, then my neck, then my chin. I have to hold Tanhí steady with my hands as he stands on my shoulders. I force myself each and every step of the way, fearing I will collapse and drown the moment I make a wrong step or simply exhaust my supply of endurance. The fact that Tanhí is on my shoulders is the only reason I am able to press on. I want to keep him safe, and it is what my love would have wanted. I promised her in her last moments I would protect our child; I hold his oath closest to my heart in spite of the fact that I did not invoke Eywa when I swore by it.

I press onward, eventually reaching the far bank. I lift Tanhí off my shoulders and throw him to the safety of the bank. I am about to slip, but he saves me.

"Father, hold on!"

He reaches out his hand, holding a river root with the other one. He pulls me and the bag to the bank, and I am able to pull myself out of the rampaging waters. I lie face down on the ground, gasping in the air until it inflates my lungs and I can get in a crawling position. Wearily, I crawl to my son who is standing directly in front of me.

I place myself in a sitting position, and pull some food out of the bag. I force some morsels down my throat, but I mostly watch to be sure my son is eating his food.

"Father ..."

"Yes?"

"Why do they the us?"

"Because they don't think we're worthy of belonging."

"Are we?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't make it right."

"They hate us even though it isn't right."

"Yes."

"That's why they are the bad guys."

"Yes"

"And we're the good guys?"

"Yes, we're the good guys."


	5. Chapter 5:Names

I was kneeling down on all fours, gulping down as much water from the jungle spring as I can; the first water I drank in days. I been banished for only two years at this point, and did not at first notice that someone was behind me. When I did, I rolled out of the way of the downward swing of the branch she held.

Before she tried to strike again, we saw each others brown eyes; an eye color belonging to those who were forsaken by Eywa. Her brown eyes were so beautiful. She placed her 'weapon' on the ground slowly to show she meant no harm. I try to speak, but words will not come out. I try again with the same result. The third time, I am able to say something.

"You're also ..."

"Yes. ... Sorry I tried to attack you."

I hear something rusteling, I know it is just leaves but I do not want to take chances. "I think we should find a safer place to talk."

She raises a good point, I would not trust me. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You have the club, I don't."

"How do you know _you_ can trust _me_?"

"If you were going to kill me, you already would have."

Without missing a beat she says, "I tried to."

"But you didn't."

"Wait, I feel I should tell you my name first. My name is Txon." Night. I would later learn that she also gave her self a name after being disowned.

"Mine is Nì'awtu." It means alone; no longer a fitting name.

* * *

I wake up, ill tempered by being reminded of who I lost. I know I should not sleep.

The long march across the savannah is slow, exhausting, and dangerous. There are few trees to give the salvation of shade to shield us the oppression of the sun. We walk until we find a hiding place, regardless of the time of day. Day and night seem to blend together in the savannah, and since our dead queues prevent us from taming a pa'li, we must walk. The staff can still be used as a walking stick, so I am able to pull myself forward if it gets too tough.

Our real problem is the Pa'li clan, a nomadic clan that inhabits the plains and can easily run either of us down. I constantly look all around to be sure that I see them before they see us. We will occasionally see a rider in the distance, and will duck down and crawl for the next few miles. After two days, we finally found a resting spot.

It was a was the rotting carcass of a dead angtsìk, one that must have fallen prey to a disease of the mind and and wandered into the plains. It probably starved to death after days or even months. Its meat is too rotten for us, but there is still enough of it left that we can dig ourselves underneath its belly. It smells foul, but after a few moments we are able to ignore it. We are huddled inside so that nothing sticks out, and rest.

"Father?"

"Yes."

"Why did you name me Tanhì?" His name means star.

"Because you are the shining light by which I carry on, even in the worst darkness you are not extinguished."

And because he, like the stars in the sky, is not under the grip of Eywa.

"Father?"

"Yes."

"Will we ever be safe?"

"We're safe now."

"No we're not, we are still on the run."

"If we try to stay in one place-"

"I know, they will kill us. But it still isn't fair."

There is much more that is unfair in life. It does not sit well that a fallen Navi is joined with his ancestors regardless of how he conducted himself in the world of the living; either fair or foul. And on the other side of the spectrum, a Navi who is banished from his race will never be joined with his ancestors no matter how his conduct of life was carried out. No matter, I would not want it even if I could achieve it; anything that would keep me away from Txon is unwelcome.

I feel the staff I hold next to me, it is a weapon. If the need arrives, I can use it to slay anyone who would try to hurt my son. I _will_use it to slay anyone who would try to hurt my son. I owe it to Txon to keep our son safe, even if she will not see him grow up.


	6. Chapter 6:Traveling

It has been two weeks of wandering through the savannah, two miserable weeks. Five days ago we ate the last of the food, and I do not know if we will be able to get more. We would have dried up and died from lack of water had it not rained.

My feet are blistered so much that I grit my teeth and wince in agony with each step I take. The walking is painfully slow, the sun is hot, and and I can feel my muscles being consumed by my metabolism in the absence of all else. If any of the navi see us then we will both be unable to escape. I just hope they will at least kill us on the spot and not indulge in their sadistic torture methods.

Though talking hurts, we still talk so as to keep ourselves from going insane.

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"Did you love my mother?"

I give an answer that is still true despite the fact that we never underwent tsaheylu. "Yes, I loved her."

I honestly think that it is possible to love someone even if you have not undergone tsaheylu, I know this not only from personal experience but also from seeing the bad side of it.

When I was just a young child, not quite old enough to undergo the rite of passage, my uncle lost his life because of tsaheylu. He was deeply in love with someone who he had known for decades. When she decided she was ready to pick a mate, they went to the tree of voices and tried to undergo tsaheylu. While they were both in love, the process of tsaheylu reversed itself and Ewya refused to accept their bonding. While his love forgot about him, my nuclear did not forget about her. He left all his possessions behind and surrendered himself to a palulukan, allowing it to take his life.

My uncle died before my rite of passage, but I suspect he would denounce me just like my parents did. I grow sick to my stomach when I recall memories of infancy when they would treat me with affection; those good memories have been tainted by the bad memory of my parents disowning me and telling me that I must either leave forever or be killed. The anger and hatred in my parents faces did not hurt as much as the absence of love. Because I failed the rite of passage, I was not worthy to be their son. As far as they were concerned, me and those like me only deserve death.

Now I have the solemn duty to save my son from death. I promised my love on her deathbed that I would protect my son from all dangers and even be willing to forfit my own life to save his.

"Father?" My son interrupts my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Why are we walking across this place?"

"Because we bad guys will kill us if we stay in one place."

"But they will chase after us no matter where we go, we'll never have a home."

"That is why we must keep going."

"But why bother? What do we have to live for?"

This is horrifying to hear from my son, made even more so that I myself ask this question and can only find protection of my son as my answer.

"We live to help each other."

"Okey."

After a while, Tanhí does not say anything. It is only when we reach a resting point beneath the fallen trunk of a long dead tree that I notice something to be wrong. He is thin, much too thin for a child to be. Even for a child born of two outcasts, he is thin and his bones stick beneath his skin. Even apart from that, his brown eyes have become listless are surrounded by large bags. Upon closer inspection, I see that his feet are covered with blisters and cuts which have not all healed up.

He does not look healthy.

Tanhí seemed to notice me watching him closely, because why else would he try to reassure me. "I am ... alright."

"I am your father, it is my job to worry about you."

"Well you don't need to be afraid for me, I am fine."

We just sat there, he sleeping while I gently caressed his head. The night ended and the daylight shun while we were both we would have to find food.


	7. Chapter 7: A cruel sunrise

Tanhí did not get better, instead his condition continued to deteriorate. Eventually, after the third time he collapsed, I had to carry him despite his feeble insistence that he could continue walking.

Walking while carrying him is excruciating and at a worms pace, we can still get past the savannah eventually. The rain has stopped, but the clouds remain so we will not have to be sun dried. Staying out in the sun can lead one to have burns on the skin, or to be dehydrated and perish from lack of fluid. The shade provided by the clouds prevent this, as does the rain.

Rain, however, has its own problems. It can cause one to slip in the mud, drown, or become so cold that the internal heat produced by our bodies is extinguished like the embers of a lightning struck tree. It is strange that the people are afraid of fire; it keeps away predatory creatures and provides warmth. If it were not a beacon by which others could find us, I would have learned how to use it to sustain myself and possibly searched for a way to prevent the rain from causing it to die.

I do not want Tanhí to die, because if he died I would want to die as well. I have already lost one loved one, I do not need to lose another.

* * *

It was in the jungle, Txon and I were traveling southward as usual. Tanhí was just a small baby, hopefully not big enough to remember how his mother died.

We were living in a cave for the past week, and were about to head out to find food so that Tanhí could grow up to be big and strong. We did not get far when tragedy struck. We were gathering roots from the ground when a growling was heard. Not wanting to risk finding out what was attacking, I screamed.

"Txon, Run!"

We ran fast, but knew we would not be able to get far. We were only able to find cover beneath a fallen log for a few minutes. Our lungs and hearts pounded so violently and horrifically that them bursting would have been a mutual fear if we were not being hunted. A vicious palulukan clawed at the log, trying to reach us so that he could tear us to shreds and devour us.

Txon is panting exhaustedly when she speaks, "Nì'awtu, it won't stop until it gets one of us. I don't want to lose you."

It dons on me what she intends to do, and my eyes widen with horror. Before I say anything, she continues.

"When I go out, I need you to run back and take Tanhí to saftey. Listen, I need you to promise you will take care of our son and do whatever it takes to protect him. Promise me you will do this."

I am still numb from the horror, but I am able to force out some words. "Yes, I promise."

Before she leaves, we kiss one last time. "I will always love you."

She heads off to distract the palulukan, and I run back to the cave to get Tanhí.

Tears stream down my face as I hear the monstrous roar and the agonizing screams that seem faint in comparison. I ran for longer than I could remember, not caring about the cuts that tore my feet and ankles until blood ran from them, nor did I care that I was running so fast and with so little breath that I was at the verge of suffocation.

The only thing I could possibly think about was that Txon was gone. The woman I loved more than anyone else in the world was gone and I would never see her again.

I do not know how long I ran. Minutes, years; it does not matter. I somehow found the cave and was able to crawl inside and found that Tanhí was still asleep.

I wailed for hours upon hours, not stopping until midnight three days later.

* * *

I kept my son alive then, and I must find a way to save him now. No matter what happens, he must survive. I can not allow my promise to be broken, even if it will doom my son to continue on as a orphan. I hope I can save him.


	8. Chapter 8:Divine Intervention

Tanhí's condition does not improve.

He ever so slowly withered away, day by day, hour by hour. His skin became pale and weak, pressed tightly against his ribs. His breathing becomes progressively more difficult, until it reaches the point where he has to struggle to take in air. I hold my son in my arms as though he were a baby; I do not want to loose him too.

As I carry him across the desolate and cruel savannah, I constantly hope that I will find something my son eat. Each step is a painful exertion and I am aware that the brittle bones in my leg could snap in two at any moment.

I do not know how it happened, but I somehow ended up upon the ground, in front of some long track of dirt where the for some unknown grass refuses to grow. This peculiarity stretches from horizon to horizon and I have seen nothing like it before in all my life. I do not notice this in the slightest; I am too exhausted to notice, too exhausted and drained of all power to even move or do anything but lie on the ground. I lie on the ground with my son in my arms, staring up at the blue sky and awaiting the end.

My son still has a pulse, but he is not moving. All I can think about is how the pale sky and the sun-hardened ground are the last things I will ever see. What comes afterwards is not important, all I can think of is that I failed.

I failed; I could not save Tanhí and so I failed.

Though my eyes hurt, some part of me still refuses to let them close because they will never open again if they do.

While I could have heard and felt the light breeze, I can not now. It is faraway, a distant thing as though being heard from the within a deep tunnel.

I do not know if I was lying there with my son for eight minutes or eight years, time seemed to slow down as it was preparing to stop.

I do not feel the rumbling of the beast not under the domain of My Enemy.

It stops in front of me, in a part of the dirt line that I can not see. Then, I am surrounded by figures who look like shadows; my vision is clearly on its way out and I can not make out their defined shape. It is clear that these ones are either children or suffered from stunted growth during youth, for they are clearly shorter than even myself.

I can see one of the shadowy figures reach towards me and prod me with what must be a sewing pin. With that, I am unable to resist any longer. My eyelids slide down and I feel the energy drain from me.

Despite this, I do not cease to exist.


	9. Chapter 9:Angel from the Sky

When I wake up the next morning, I wake up to the shock and surprise that I am still among the land of the living.

I am lying on a sort of raised bedding, covered with a cloth blanket. Despite being too weak to move, I can still feel tubular tentacles attached to me that cause things to flow into and out of my body. There is a box shaped ... thing ... that lets out a short repeating chirp that sounds like nothing I have ever heard before. I do not cause disruption to the tubes or the mask that covers my face, as I can not comprehend their function and am simply too weak to exert anymore movement beyond looking around the room. I can see from looking around that I am in a square cave, the walls of which are made of a white stone. There appears to be a much darker stone rectangle at one side of the cave, and in the wall behind me is a small hole through which I might have entered through. Though now a translucent substance blocks it.

I do not know how long I wait for, but eventually I see two ... creatures ... push the black slab aside with ease and enter the chamber. The first thing I notice is that these ...people? ... whatever they are, I will refer to them as people for lack of a better word. Anyway, these people are much smaller than even malnourished outcasts. Their skin is not the blue that is normal among the people, nor is it the sickly pale blue seen among the outcasts; it is a color that I can only described as the Sun. Their eyes are small and of colors not seen in the eyes (one has green eyes, while the other has blue eyes), but I can see the ability to feel compassion and empathy within them. One of them has red hair, but the other possesses hair that is a light yellow.

Even more strange is what they lack. They have no queue, not even a dead and rotting one like mine; I do not need to think deeply to ponder why someone would cut off their queue, every clan has at least one warrior who can not resist the collection of a trophy. Apart from that, their teeth are small, even assuming for malnutrition. At first they speak in what I think is a language but not one The People speak in.

I do not recognize the design of their clothes, but I can tell they work for what the job demands. The one with yellow hair and blue eyes wears a cloth of light green that envelops his whole torso as well as the tops of his shoulders. On top of this is a smaller garment colored of multiple shades of green. His whole legs are also enveloped by a leather garment colored with many shades of green. Upon his head is what looks like a green pouch, but in a way that I can not describe the pouch looks as though it were crafted specifically for the head. He holds an intricately carved object in his hands that has resemblance to a club, but he holds it it a way that suggests it is something else. This man is probably a warrior or a mighty hunter.

The second one, the one with red hair and green eyes who is clearly the older of the two, wears a long black cloth vestment that covers his whole body from his neck to his feet. The only necklace he wears is a simple one; a piece of wood carved in a "+" shape. The staff he holds could not possibly be a weapon, it is plain and without decoration. Yet despite the simplicity of this man, I feel as though he is an elder if not a chief. For some reason beyond logic, his gentle nature makes me content to trust him.

After having given me enough time for their appearance to sink in, they introduce themselves in the language of The People. Still, their accent is not one of any clan I encountered in the past.

The person who might be the chief speaks first, "It is good to see that you are recovering, and I am sure you will be pleased to hear that your companion is also healing."

I breathe a sigh of relief that the question I was afraid to ask was answered for me, and without the answer being what I feared most.

"Where is Tanhí?"

"He is asleep in the room to your right, you can visit him once you are well enough to walk."

"Is he safe?"

"Yes."

"Promise me he is safe."

"I promise."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Then I ask my next question. In fact, it is a series of questions.

"Where am I? How did Tanhí and I get here? How did you save us? Are you friend or foe? Why did you help us? Wh-"

"Please, you need to save your energy if you are to recover. I promise I will resolve all your questions if I am given the chance to explain myself. You can trust me, I am a friend."

I am quiet, and he continues.

"I suppose I should start off with introduction. My name is Father Lewis Methodius, this nice man is Corporal Marcus Christian."

"You look like nobody I have ever seen before."

"That is because we are of a different race. Our people have come from the sky to bring God and Civilization to this world, as well as to find what is necessary to save our own."

I want to ask what this shy person is even talking about, but I am completely lost for words. Lewis does not criticize me for slow headedness. He instead asks about me.

"Please tell me, what is your name?"

"My name is Nì'awtu. The person who was with me is my son, his name is Tanhí."

"It is a pleasure to meet you both today. Welcome to the Mission of St. Thomas."

This is startling because if one thing; welcome. I can not welcome here, nor am I welcome anywhere. I am an outcast, and even Eywa is my enemy.

"I am welcome here? Even though I am an outcast?"

"All who have kindness in their hearts are welcome here. None are unwelcome at God's table."

Marcus Christian, who was previously silent, spoke for the first time.

"I guess you can say this is an Outcast Clan."


	10. Chapter 10: An advanced people

It has been a week, and I am now healed enough to visit my son.

I was lead by Corporal Marcus Christian into his room expecting the worst, only to be surprised to find the best. He no longer looks like a boy at the edge of death; there is life within him again.

My star shines brightly. I can see it in his eyes, in his smile when he recounts the kindness and tenderness with which the healers of this clan have treated him, or that this is the first time he ever slept in an actual bed and how much more comfortable it it when he remembers the floor of the jungle or the savannah or the caves.

I do not remember the last time he smiled.

Tubes are also in him, but I learned from one of the healers that the tubes are for the flow of food and water into his body because he is too weak to eat or drink. The tubes must work, because before long he is no longer a walking skeleton.

Since I no longer needed my tubes, they allowed me to have my meals with my son and to visit him while he heals.

Sometimes Father Lewis Methodius or Corporal Matthew Christian would talk to us and keep us company, sometimes someone else would do this.

Father Methodius would often talk about his God. The God he talked of was like no other deity either Tanhí or I had ever heard of before. The God of the Sky People is nothing at all like Eywa; this deity is forgiving and compassionate. He is all powerful, unlike Ewya who can not control the stars or the rocks or the sun. However, while we are both open to the possibility and feel that this deity is preferable to the one of The People, I still need to ponder this before accepting Him into my heart.

What I know for sure is that these People from the Sky are a powerful people, and that this outcast clan is the only clan I have ever been able to trust. They are not like The People, who torture and murder and hunt outcasts. Even if one of their own commits a crime worthy of banishment or death, their elders still hold something called a 'trial' to determine that they truly are guilty.

These People of the Sky are truly an advanced race. They are able to erect artificial caves of stone or a strange substance called 'metal' so they do not have wait for a home tree to grow. They have mastered the strange force called fire, and can even produce it themselves. Their weapons can shoot little rocks with more power than a bow could ever hope to produce. They can even travel to and from the stars. Not a single clan of The People can claim to have reached these achievements.

While these People of the Sky teach me of their powers, they have taken care of Tanhí and I. We have been fed, provided pale 'hospital gowns' to wear until we are fully healed, and allowed to stay here should we so wish. When I asked Father Lewis Methodius why he allowed us to have so many things, he said that his God wants the Sky People to be compassionate and to voluntarily share with those had nothing. I just know that if one of The People saw me and did not yet realize I was an outcast, he would have allowed my son and I to die for no other reason than to 'keep the natural balance'.

Only the People of the Sky could have saved me and my son, and only they would have.


End file.
